


A Delightful Surprise

by riventhorn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, expressing emotions through skating, viktor would totally use pet names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riventhorn/pseuds/riventhorn
Summary: Yuuri skates a program for Viktor as a thank you for everything Viktor has done to help him





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am falling for this show so hard--I can't even admit to how many times I've watched the third episode already.

Makkachin ran along the bridge, barking at seagulls. Viktor pedaled his bicycle—well, Yuuri’s bicycle really—behind him. 

“Hello!” Viktor called to a fisherman, lifting his arm in a wave. “Makkachin, come! Yuuri’s waiting for us!”

Viktor had stayed out too late the night before and overindulged in sake. By the time he awoke, Yuuri had already left for the skating rink. There were only three weeks left until the Grand Prix Final, and if Yuuri could have lived at the rink, foregoing sleeping and eating entirely, he would have done so. Viktor had practically had to drag him away by force yesterday.

“Yuuri, don’t overwork yourself,” he had chided, wrapping Yuuri’s scarf around his neck while Yuuri stared longingly back at the closed doors of Ice Castle Hasetsu. 

“But…” Yuuri turned anxious eyes on Viktor.

“You know how to land your quads. These last months—you’ve been extraordinary, Yuuri. You’re a favorite going into the Grand Prix! A favorite!” 

Yuuri looked down, smiling but bashful, a blush rising up his neck. 

For Viktor, praise and accolades about his skating were, if never unwelcome, not something he craved. But Yuuri soaked them up. How Viktor adored Yuuri’s flushed face and his helpless, pleased smiles. 

“Vatrushka, Yuuri!” he called as he entered the ice rink. “Did you try them when you were in Russia? We’ll eat them with our katsudon bowls.” 

Yuuri had been in the middle of a spin, but he came to a stuttered, fluttering stop at the sound of Viktor’s voice. 

“Viktor,” he squeaked.

Viktor waved, balancing on one leg to take off his blade covers before gliding onto the ice. “Let’s start with that one jump sequence, Yuuri. I want to check your balance and positioning as you go into the triple loop.” 

“Wait,” Yuuri said. “Before we start I want to…” He took a deep breath, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I have something to give you.” 

“A present?” Viktor gasped, excited. 

“Um, yes. I—I guess it is,” Yuuri mumbled and then took Viktor’s arm, leading him back to the side of the rink. “You have to watch from here.”

“You mean you’re skating for me? You put a program together for me?” Viktor asked as Yuuri fumbled for the remote to turn on the music. 

An embarrassed nod.

“Yuuri!”

“It won’t be anything special. I haven’t had much time, and I’m not as good as you at choreography.”

“You shouldn’t have—you should be working on your own program,” Viktor protested, even though anticipation fizzed and bubbled inside him. 

Yuuri pressed the remote into Viktor’s hands. “I didn’t know how else to say thank you for everything you’ve done,” he said quietly, still not meeting Viktor’s eyes, and then skated out into the center of the ice and waited with a bowed head for Viktor to start the music. 

Viktor pressed the button. He recognized the opening notes, soft and delicate. It was the part known as “Morning” from the Peer Gynt Suite by Grieg. 

Yuuri began to skate, tentatively at first, a shy pattering across the ice, his face bowed or hidden in his arms. But then, as the music built toward the first crescendo, he grew more confident, spreading his arms wide and tilting his face upward. It was the story of how Yuuri’s skating had changed since Viktor had become his coach. His eyes met Viktor’s for a moment, and then the music swelled and he sprang into a jump sequence, twirling through the air. 

Viktor’s breath caught, and he pressed his hands together, touching his fingers to his lips. Oh, but Yuuri was beautiful like this. 

A smile now, one of Yuuri’s sweet, passionate smiles. His steps flowed over the ice, and then he moved into a spin, arms curving upwards.

This. _This_ was what Viktor needed. When he had first watched the video of Yuuri skating and compared it to the stiff, meek performances Yuuri gave in competitions, he had known he had to come here. He wanted to help Yuuri win, of course. He wanted to bring this skating to the world. But he wanted it for himself first. He was greedy that way, always seeking the purest, the best. If he could not find it within himself, then it must come from outside. 

But this—this could not be created by one person alone. It had taken the both of them, and Yuuri, his adorable Yuuri, had taken Viktor to heart—had indeed been thrilled and endlessly amazed that Viktor should want to be there. 

He had been confident he could make Yuuri a better skater. But he hadn’t been sure if he could find what he had seen in that video. He hadn’t known if Yuuri would be willing or able to share that with him. 

But now—here it was, in every movement and breath as Yuuri skated. The music had grown softer and slower again. Yuuri still wore a smile, but it was a peaceful one, contented, even as his gestures still brimmed with joy. 

Yuuri caught his eyes again as the song ended, and he stretched out his arms to Viktor and then bowed his head. 

Viktor opened his mouth and found he couldn’t speak. He held out a hand instead, swallowing down the burn of tears. 

Yuuri approached hesitantly, but Viktor drew him into a hug. 

“Yuuri,” he managed to whisper. “It was perfect.” 

Yuuri shivered, clutching at him. “This was—you’ve helped me so—Viktor, I—”

Viktor kissed his cheek. 

Yuuri gulped and hid his face in the crook of Viktor’s neck. 

Viktor coaxed him into reappearing and kissed Yuuri’s soft mouth. How cute Yuuri’s little moan sounded. Viktor hadn’t known it was possible for Yuuri to be more adorable, but he was, look at him with his mussed hair and wide eyes. It was too much, and Viktor could only kiss him again, helpless. 

“Viktor?” Yuuri whispered.

“What, darling?” Viktor nuzzled his cheek and then sampled the delights of Yuuri’s mouth again. 

Yuuri made a muffled noise and drew back, panting. “Viktor.”

Viktor stopped, brow creasing. A cold thought occurred to him. “Is this not what you want, Yuuri?”

“No—no, it _is_. I—I’ve thought about this so much, I—” Yuuri froze, going red. 

Viktor smiled, smoothing back his hair. “I know.”

“You know?” Yuuri said, distressed, his embarrassment growing. 

Viktor tilted his head, confused. “But that’s what you skated, isn’t it?”

“I—I didn’t mean for you to _realize_.”

“Silly,” Viktor said, fond. “Of course I knew, Yuuri.” 

“You knew, and you kissed me.” Yuuri gasped suddenly. “You mean, you…?”

“Silly,” Viktor repeated. “My silly darling.” 

They ended up in a muddle on the floor because the kissing went to Yuuri’s head and he overbalanced, getting tangled in Viktor’s skates in the process. Yuuri made an aborted move to get up, but Viktor held him closer. Relenting, Yuuri laid his head against Viktor’s chest. 

“Will you skate for me again?” Viktor asked him. 

Yuuri smiled. “I’ve always skated for you.” 

“Always?” Viktor said, to hear him say it again. 

“Always.”

“And this one, in particular?” 

Yuuri made a considering noise. “Maybe. But I think…I think that it might change if this—if we—continue.” 

Of course. Yes, that would be the way of it. And his own skating would change too. Perhaps even the very next time he stepped on the ice, it would be there waiting. What a delightful surprise it would be to discover what it was, what he was now, with Yuuri at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> [This](https://youtu.be/kzTQ9fjforY) is the song that Yuuri skates to.
> 
> vatrushka are a Russian pastry that sound very good, although I've never had one.


End file.
